


Some Routine Maintenance

by BrilliantlyHorrid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/pseuds/BrilliantlyHorrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy and Phil experience the unique gratification of building (and fixing) something on their own. To varying results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Routine Maintenance

**Author's Note:**

> SkoulsonFest 2k16 Day 1: Miscommunication, off duty

“You know, we do have a maintenance staff for these types of things,” Coulson said, leaning against the door. Skye pried one more piece of grungy tile from the shower wall with a crowbar, letting it fall to the floor and shatter.

“Yeah?” She asked, pushing her bangs back from her forehead. Coulson looked at rest of the bathroom, apparently she had been at it for a while.

“I didn’t realize ‘bathroom re-modeling’ was in your skill set,” Coulson joked, and Skye gave him a benevolent--yet reluctant-- smile. He sighed. Phil didn’t like shutting her out, of course he didn’t. Skye was _Skye_ , and before the business with the carving started, he had considered bringing her in on a higher level. Maybe she could be Director one day, he’d thought, and maybe she still could. But now he needed to _prepare,_  and May was the best candidate for what the job now entailed.

 _Besides,_ he thought, watching her cross the room to grab a bottle of water from against the wall. _If she starts too..._ Phil shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. It had been a little over a week, and neither he nor May had seen any signs that Skye was dealing with the same effects.

That was a whole new concern entirely.

“What do you think of the new crew?” He asked, stepping fully into the room to take a look around.

Putting her water down, Skye picked her crowbar back up and went back to work on the shower. “Fine,” she said, grunting slightly as she pried another tile from the wall. “Hartley is good, Hunter is kind of a tool, but hopefully a useful tool,” she offered, shrugging. “Mack is--” She turned to look at Coulson, an eyebrow raised.

Yes. Mack certainly _was_.

“A great mechanic,” he said instead, and Skye nodded.

“Yup,” she agreed, pulling a loose tile off the wall with her hand. She was breathing heavily, and he wondered if this wasn’t some kind of catharsis or exercise in venting frustration. He was partial to puzzles, himself.

“Have you been to medical to see--”

“ _No_ ,” Skye said, jamming the crowbar into the wall forcefully.

Phil realized what it was about.

“I wouldn’t bring him here if he couldn’t provide intel,” he explained, watching her strained expression as she pulled off another tile.

“I understand,” she said stiffly, resting her shoulder against the wall.

“You won’t have to see him,” Coulson said, regretting the offer the second it came out. As much as he hated the idea, he couldn’t guarantee he’d never have to send Skye down there. She seemed to realize as much.

“You can promise me that,” she asked skeptically, and Coulson pursed his lips. Skye rolled her eyes. “Didn’t think so,” she said, wiping sweat from her forehead with her forearm.

 _I would if I could,_ he wanted to say, to tell her that she would never have to look Grant Ward in the face ever again. Hell, he would tell his whole team that if he could, they all more than deserved it. Coulson knew that bringing Ward on base--especially just as Fitz was coming back around-- was a bad decision.

But it was a necessary one.

He’d had a lot of those lately, he thought, watching Skye begin to gather up the broken tiles into a cardboard box.

“So, are you off to Kyoto, or Berlin or wherever it is you’re jetting off to next?” She asked, trying to sound casual.

“Tomorrow morning,” Coulson answered, “Rio de Janeiro.”

“Sounds rough,” Skye said, and Coulson smiled sardonically.

“Not sure I’ll get much beach lounging time between recruitment or, worst case scenario, running for my life,” he said wryly. “Two hours maybe, three tops.”

Skye laughed quietly, the best sound Phil had heard in weeks. He watched her as she picked up the box of tiles, carrying them over to the door next to another full box. It was pretty impressive; he knew the bathrooms here would be a project, but once Skye set her mind to something…

 _It’s not fair,_ Phil thought, knowing what his next step would be. It wasn’t fair for her not to know, for them to stay in limbo trying to figure out what had triggered his episodes, and how to stop them. _If it’s even possible._ But what were his options? Keep her away from the symbols as long as he could, only for her to stumble upon them before they found a cure? _Or after I’m gone?_

Director Coulson had to make his next tough decision.

“Have you done this before?” He asked, rolling up his sleeves and picking up a screwdriver. Finding an unfinished wall, Coulson began to pry one of the tiles off.

“Uh, yeah, sort of,” Skye said, sounding surprised. “No way to prove your worth like manual labor,” she said, laughing darkly. “I can fix a disposal too.”

Phil winced, not liking the thought of young Skye taking on these types of tasks in exchange for being able to stay, or being treated like a _person_ , who had _value_.

At the sound of the screwdriver scraping against the wall, Phil gasped and dropped it on the floor. He had tunnel vision for a moment, overwhelmed by the flood of images and impulses he could barely push away. Leaning a hand against the wall, Phil squeezed his eyes shut trying to keep the feeling at bay.

 _That was stupid,_ he thought, staring at the tool on the ground. _I should have known better._ Taking a deep breath he looked up at the spot on the wall. There was an indent, a deep scratch about a centimeter long, but no symbols. He sighed in relief.

“Hey, are you alright?” Skye asked, and he wondered when she had gotten so close.

“Yeah, fine,” Coulson replied quickly, stepping away from the wall and turning his back on her. He shook his hand, frustrated. “Sorry, I jammed my finger under the--” he gestured to the wall. “Thing,” he finished, pretending to examine his not-injured finger.

“Well, be careful,” Skye said, sounding cautiously amused. “I’m not sure how I’d tell all those SHIELD agents that I killed the director with my home improvement projects.”

Phil looked over at Skye, smiling softly. He missed this. In all of the chaos, he and Skye had barely any time to talk, and now he had to pull away even more. He didn’t know how to talk to her this way, how to be honest when he was holding back so much.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help with this,” he admitted, not wanting to set anything off again, not in front of her.

He could practically see Skye squash down her disappointment, as she nodded profusely. “I get it, you’re busy,” she said, looking around her. “I’ll be fine.”

Heading toward the door, he almost chickened out.

“Skye,” he called, turning around. “I actually have something I’d like you to work on, if you’re up for it,” Phil said, feeling a wave of guilt pass over him at the excited look on her face.

“Yeah, definitely,” she said, wiping her hands on her sweatpants. “Do you want me to come up now?”

 _Yes, so I can ruin your life even faster_.

“How about an hour?” He asked, and she nodded. “Great,” he said, meaning anything but. “And good job with this, how about you help me pick out some new tiles while you're at it?”

Skye grinned widely, and Phil was hit with a strange new impulse. One that had nothing to do with alien writing, but felt just as dangerous.

“Excellent,” he said, heading up to his office. There he would assemble a folder of photos and sketches of the symbols and, in a desperate attempt to cheer himself up over what he was about to do, pull up a few options for the new bathroom design. Before he destroyed both of their lives, maybe they could work on it together.

***

“You _know,_ we have a maintenance staff on hand for this kind of thing.”

Phil smiled, pulling himself from under the sink. “No you don’t,” he said, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

“No, we don’t,” Daisy agreed, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “I didn’t realize making you wait turned you into Bob the Builder,” she joked. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow. Careful, or else I’m going to start showing up late every time you visit.”

Looking around the room Coulson shrugged. “Nice space,” he said, admiring the setup of the “master” bath. It was so bright and clean and modern, at first glance, you’d have no idea you were in a secret underground base.

“I had a lot of time on my hands,” Daisy said, and Phil winced. They had to sever communications for weeks to facilitate the move and prevent discovery, which was fun for absolutely no one. “Joey saw I was going stir crazy and _maybe_ getting a little destructive, so he lent a hand.”

Phil nodded. He’d seen her in her _moods._ But this was impressive; both he and Daisy were decent around the house, but having an actual builder clearly made a big difference. “Any chance of you two leaving SHIELD to start a remodeling business?”

Daisy crossed her arms, walking into the room. She brushed past Phil at _just_ the last second, moving to look at the sink he had been working on. She was wearing a new perfume, he noticed. “Nah,” she said, taking a closer look at his handiwork. “I mean, we _just_ settled into this place, and I’m not sure the boss would let me stay if I don’t work here anymore.”

“What a tyrant.”

Daisy laughed, jumping up to sit on the bathroom counter. “Although, a little bird told me that he’s been working non-stop off base for the past few weeks finishing up an apartment. So it could work out.” She smiled a bit guiltily. “Poor guy, I can see why he might be a little stressed. Not a one man job. I hear.”

“Uh huh. Did Bobbi also tell you that I accidentally wired the front buzzer to the ceiling fan?” Phil asked, stepping closer until he was touching her knees.

“No, but she did say that the kitchen outlets only work if the light switch in the living room is turned on.”

Phil groaned in embarrassment. Okay, _Daisy_ was decent around the house. But what could he say? He went a little stir crazy without her as well, except he apparently didn’t have the same knack for it as she did. Or happen to have an experienced electrician/construction worker on hand. Daisy wrapped her arms around his waist pulling him closer.

“No, it’s fine,” she said, pressing her cheek into the crook of his neck. “I’ve always wanted to live in one of those ‘escape the room’ puzzles.”

“Okay,” Phil muttered, ready to change the subject.

“No really, you’ve got another two weeks to hide all the outlets behind picture frames and install a secret room behind a bookcase that can only be opened when bathroom light switches are on in a specific pattern.”

Phil sighed, pulling back to look at her. “Another two weeks, huh?” Daisy nodded.

“They’ll be fine without me on site 24/7, but I need to make sure everything is all set before I can leave,” she said, straightening out his shirt. “Think you can manage without me a little longer?” He knew Daisy felt bad about leaving in the middle of the move, which was absurd considering he was part of the reason the Inhumans had to find a new hideout in the first place.

Another two weeks of radio silence.

 _How long have we waited?_ He wondered, combing his fingers through the hair behind her ears. Daisy closed her eyes, sighing contentedly. Part of him wanted to say it had been long enough, but the other, bigger part of him knew he could wait even longer if it meant them finally being together. He would wait as long as it took.

Leaning in he pressed a kiss to her lips, feeling Daisy react enthusiastically, curling her fingers into the loose fabric at his sides. Stepping back, he raised an eyebrow. “Ask me in the morning,” he answered smoothly.

“ _Really_ now _,_ ” Daisy said, clearly impressed despite herself. Phil just smiled somewhat-innocently, and she sighed. “Alright, let’s see what you got, handyman.” Phil could feel his face light up as he helped her off the sink.

_Speaking of which._

“Oh, right,” Phil said, leading her through the door to her bedroom. “I do not think I fixed that pipe correctly. You might want to take a look, or get Joey--”

“ _Later_.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

**Author's Note:**

> They finally re-tiled the bathrooms guys.


End file.
